Forgiveness
by afraidtobelieve
Summary: She still has the power to forgive. [Post-Forgiving Rollins]
1. Chapter 1

_Air_ , she thinks. _I need air._

What she really needs is a cigarette and a day off, but she'll take what she can get these days.

Barba is probably following her downstairs and the logical part of her brain doesn't blame him, but the emotional part? The raw, exhausted part of her that just exposed a gaping wound that she had been trying to cover up for years? That part of her wants to ring his fucking neck.

 _He raped me._

There. She'd said it. She'd said it on paper and behind the witness stand, in front of strangers and friends, behind closed doors and in empty courtrooms. She's even said it to herself a few times.

Barba is helping her go over her testimony, and it's strange to be the subject of each question. She did not recount how a _victim_ described their attack; she described her own attack, in sharp, excruciating detail. When she looked up afterward, Barba held her gaze with such obvious difficulty that every fiber of her being told her to bolt. So she did.

Now here she is at the back entrance of the courthouse, where attorneys and high-profile defendants alike sneak in and out unbothered every day. She wishes she had thought to grab her purse on the way out because _damnit_ she could really use a cigarette right now.

She contemplates hailing a cab and just disappearing for a few hours, but she knows that Fin would find her anyway; she's already learned that the hard way this week. She could walk back in there and tell Barba that she'll finish up tomorrow, but that would be an admission that she can't handle this. She had promised them- Barba, Sergeant Benson, everyone- that she could. It's becoming more and more obvious that she _can't_ handle this, but she doesn't have the energy for more painful truths today.

She starts to pace- never a good sign- mentally berating herself for leaving in the first place. _No matter how I play this,_ she thinks, _Benson's gonna find out and I'll get another lecture and a mandatory appointment with her therapist_. Fucking great.

A slammed car door muffles her thoughts for a moment, and a defense attorney she doesn't recognize steps out of a BMW into the biting January cold. He makes his way inside without acknowledging her, which is perfectly fine. _I just want to be alone,_ she thinks.

"Well then you came to the wrong city."

She turns around to find Barba outside, closing the door behind him. _Great_ , she thinks, _I was thinking out loud._ Another good sign.

"Couldn't exactly stay in Atlanta now could I?" Her tone is as cold as the air she's breathing. He lowers his eyes and digs his heels into the ground.

They stare at each other for a moment before she starts again.

"I-I'm sorry. I just needed a minute."

He looks up with those damn eyes again, that kicked puppy look.

"It's ok, just um- maybe next time tell me where you're going because uh, I don't wanna have to call Benson every time you go AWOL." She sees his apologetic smirk and concedes that that's probably for the best, but she doesn't move.

"God it's freezing out here. Do you want to come in?" Because she can see that he's trying his best, she agrees. They make it back to the courtroom before she finally has the balls to stop him.

"Wait. I just," she starts, "can we do this tomorrow? I just, um, it's been a long day and, uh, I'm...tired."

He's surprised she admitted it at all, let alone asked him to help her. But it's getting later and he's gotten more out of her than he'd hoped for today so he might as well give the woman a break.

"Sure. Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah," and she turns to grab her purse.

She doesn't feel much like going home and she's not allowed anywhere near the precinct, so she finds herself wandering the streets of New York, taking in the atmosphere of a city that was supposed to give her a fresh start, a new life. _Fuck that_ , she thinks. She could've gone anywhere. Boston, D.C., Chicago, fuckin' Seattle, it didn't matter. She picked the biggest city in the country and hoped that she'd never run into _him_ at a conference or a visit back home.

 _Him_. What a fuckin' cliché, that her mind can't even say his name. How _fucking_ pathetic. How _dare_ she call herself a cop. How dare she even exist in the same _universe_ as the Great Olivia Benson, a cop who'd built her career on getting too close to victims and never ever backing down. No matter what Benson did, she came out on top.

 _And who am I?_ she thinks. _What have I done to deserve any of this?_ A good job, a decent life, rape, a gambling addiction. None of it made any fucking sense to her. She didn't deserve the good parts of her life, but she sure as hell didn't deserve the shitty parts either.

 _What a fucking mess,_ she thinks.

She checks the time while she's waiting in front of a shitty street vendor for her probably-burnt coffee. She realizes that she's been wandering for hours, which wouldn't matter except for the fact that she needs to get Frannie from the dog sitter before she ends up paying extra for being late again. She hails a cab and makes it home just in time to stare aimlessly at the 6 o'clock news.

 _Maybe I'll figure it out tomorrow_ , she thinks.


	2. Chapter 2

She must have fallen asleep because she wakes up startled to hear three knocks on her door; quiet, in quick succession. A glance at her phone tells her that it's 1 am and she has 6 missed calls from Fin. _Fucking fantastic._

She doesn't want to talk to him but she also doesn't want her neighbors to call the cops, so she opens the door. He's holding a bottle of whiskey and staring at his phone.

"You don't have to call me again."

He looks up and puts his phone away. Holds up the whiskey as if it's his sole purpose for showing up at her apartment at one in the morning.

"Amanda." He looks unsure, and Fin's really not an unsure kind of guy, so she steps aside and waits for him to accept the invitation. He makes his way to her kitchen and sets the bottle on her counter before he turns around again.

"I wasn't sure you'd be down with the whiskey tonight..."

"It's fine. Thank you. And Fin? I really, _really_ am."

Because it's something to do, she pours them both a small glass and they sit down on her couch. Frannie watches with some interest from the corner of the room; she knows Fin, likes him even, but Amanda has been acting strange lately and it's been putting her dog on edge as well.

"Amanda..."

"Fin." She's really not in the mood for this.

"Barba called me. Seemed kind of worried about you."

That surprises her. Barba's always been a little stressed no matter when she sees him, but the fact that he worried enough to call someone- Fin of all people- was unlike him.

"Barba should probably mind his own business. He's got a pretty important case to deal with right now. You've probably heard about it. It's the one where an Atlanta PD police chief _raped_ his det-"

"Amanda." She's spiraling, but he also doesn't think he can listen to this just yet.

"Is that all you can say? _Amanda_? I thought you'd have some sage wisdom for your poor lil' fragile partner." Her tone isn't loud, but it's harsh, biting. He's not usually at the receiving end of it, but he knows he's not the one she's mad at now anyway.

"Amanda, I'm sorry. Really. You didn't...I'm sorry."

Because she can tell that it's probably all he planned on saying, she is grateful.

"Yeah. Thanks. You know, for not prying."

He looks like he wants to ask, but he knows her, knows that she'll never talk until she's 100% sure that she's ready, so he changes his mind.

"You just let me know when you wanna talk and I'll be here."

They drink and stare at her blank TV screen for a while before he finally asks her.

"What made you want to testify now?" He's one glass of whiskey in and he's working on a second so it's now or never.

She stares at her shitty coffee table for a few moments, takes a sip of her own drink, and speaks.

"Because I saw that other girl fighting and I knew I couldn't live with myself if I didn't help her."

"What about you?"

"What _about_ me?" She's getting nervous now, but she won't let him see that.

"You didn't wanna fight for yourself? You could live with that?"

Another swig of whiskey, a glance at her watch. 2:45 am.

"I'm still here aren't I? Still living."

"Could have fooled me."

"Oh yeah? You met me like this, Fin. You've never known an Amanda Rollins that _wasn't_ raped. This is who I am now. Nothin' can change that."

"But you won't fight for yourself. You'll fight for your sister, Benson, Amaro, and every woman that steps through the doors of SVU. You won't fight for yourself. Why?"

"Because I _walked into it_! I knew he wanted sex, I still went to that motel. I knew he was drunk, I still lay down on that bed. I said no but it was too late! I was stupid! And I was reckless, and he raped me, and-" a quick pause to catch her breath, concentrate on not crying. "I walked into it. That is the price I had to pay for being stupid."

"Bullshit."

That surprises her. "You think the reason I didn't report him was bullshit?"

"No. The reason you gave wasn't bullshit, but it wasn't _your_ reason. You could've fought for yourself after you transferred out of Atlanta. You didn't. Something changed your mind this time around. What was it?"

She knows all of this. But at least her bullshit didn't go unnoticed. At least someone cared enough to call her out on it. Because yeah, Atlanta's a boys' club, so she couldn't accuse him while she worked there, but nothing stood in her way after her transfer request went through. She just…couldn't. Not even Benson had asked her about that.

"I um…..I kind of…always regretted it. Not reporting, I mean."

"So…."

"So when I came here, and my coworkers treated me like a human and not a piece of ass, and I saw how powerful these women were…the ones who reported, I mean. I saw these little girls accusing their fathers and their coaches and their teachers. They had so much more to lose in their lives from doing that, and they were still…stronger than me. And then Benson, last year…All these women had it so much worse- not that it's a contest- but these women could do it, and I _couldn't_. I couldn't and I hated myself. I hated myself _so much_ for not saying anything."

He gets that. He doesn't actually understand what it feels like, obviously, but he gets it.

"So when you saw Detective Taymor…"

"I knew as soon as I saw her. I saw that young girl with the blonde hair and bright eyes and I knew, Fin. I _knew_. I could've stopped it before he raped her. And I was still too fucking afraid of him. Of that _garbage_. I hate him, but _God_ I hate myself more."

"So..."

"So when she had the guts to stand up to him in open court while he was still her boss, and she still lived and worked in Atlanta….She had so much to lose, Fin. So much. And she did it anyway. I thought, 'If she can do that, then I can get the _fuck_ over myself for a few days and help her.'"

"I'm sure she appreciates it."

She scoffs, because they don't even know if her testimony will be allowed, and Taymor really isn't all that thrilled with her "help" so far, but she appreciates his words nonetheless.

"Thanks." It's inadequate, but it's all she can think to say in the moment.

"Anytime," he says, and she believes him, because Fin's always understood her better than almost anyone in this city. They have extremely different backgrounds, and lives, but somehow there is a very real kinship between them nonetheless. She doesn't trust a lot of people, but she trusts him. He's got walls as high as hers but he is a good soul. She wishes she could have known him earlier.

"Fin," she says into the quiet.

"Yeah."

"You'd care if I disappeared, right? You'd miss me in the beginning, and you know, think about me sometimes?" She continues before he can respond, "Not that I'm gonna disappear or anything, just… Sometimes I wonder, you know? I wonder who would care."

"I'd care."

"I…thanks. I won't go anywhere."

"Good. I don't like new partners."

"You seemed to like me just fine." She nudges him and he smirks.

"Yeah, well, I was just amused to be partnered with someone whose birth year was so recent it almost gave Munch a stroke."

"I miss Munch." She didn't know him that well or for very long, but he was one of the first to really welcome her into the unit. She would never forget it.

"I should check up on him more often. He might wallpaper his house with tin foil one of these days."

"He might be onto something." She wonders if Munch's theories weren't always so crazy.

It is then that Rollins remembers to check the clock. 3:30 am.

"Damnit," she hears Fin say as he checks his own phone for the time. "I should go."

"You can just crash on my couch. I'm sorry I kept you so late…"

"Nah, I'm the one that showed up at one in the morning and invited myself inside."

"Still. You should stay. It's fine, I don't mind. Unless, you have work in the morning-"

"Benson gave us all the day off. Said we should save our energy for court." _Oh._

"Then it's settled. You're staying." She goes to find some extra pillows and a blanket.

When she comes back into the living room she sees him cleaning up their whiskey glasses and giving Frannie a treat. She smiles.

"No need to spoil her, Fin. She already likes you."

"Just making sure I'm still her favorite SVU cop." She chooses to ignore the implication there, instead handing him his pillow. She waits a beat, then gives him a quick hug. It's fleeting and awkward- she knew it would be- but it was necessary. She couldn't have slept without making her gratitude very clear.

"Thank you, Fin. For tonight. For being there."

His gaze is far more tender than she had ever expected from him. It's warm and comforting and exactly what she needed.

"Any time, 'Manda. You just let me know when."

And she heads off to her room.

She doesn't have a lot of people in her life willing to put up with her relentless bullshit. Fin is one of the good ones. She thanks whatever higher power there is for his presence in her life every day, sometimes twice. The past decade has been a spectacular shitstorm of problems for her, but she still feels joy, still loves. She still has the power to forgive.

Maybe, one day, she'll forgive herself.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Thanks for reading, friends. Feel free to leave a review if you're so inclined.

XO, E


End file.
